


the perfect blend

by carissima



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: “This your first time here then?” Darnell asks, reaching below the counter to pull out a loyalty card that he dangles in front of Holy Fucking Hottie. “Ten visits gets you a free coffee.”“I guess it depends whether the coffee’s any good then,” Holy Fucking Hottie says, his gaze flickering over to where Connor is sliding the lid on his espresso.





	the perfect blend

**Author's Note:**

> huuuuuuuge thank you to bee for the beta, as always <3

Connor smothers a yawn from where he’s hidden behind the coffee machine and picks up the next order, one hand reaching behind him for the caramel.

“Late night?” Nursey slides another empty cup his way. “Triple nonfat cappuccino. Shouldn’t stay out all night partying, Davo, you know you need your full twelve hours of beauty sleep.”

Connor acknowledges the chirp with a slight quirk of his lips, his hands busily topping off the latte with whipped cream. “Here you go, ma’am,” he says politely. “Have a great day.”

He throws a cloth at Nursey to wipe down the counter while he makes quick work of the last order and takes advantage of the brief lull in business to lean back and roll his aching shoulders. “I might have spent too long in the gym last night,” he admits, anticipating Nursey’s snort of laughter.

“One of these days you’re going to actually loosen up and enjoy yourself,” Darnell says, flicking the now-dirty cloth at Connor’s face. Quick reflexes save him and he turns to rinse it out in the tiny sink behind them. “And you better believe I’m gonna be instagramming the whole thing when you get wasted and Stromer’s holding your hair back while you hug the bowl.”

“I’m sure all five of your followers will enjoy that,” Connor says dryly.

“Excuse you I have two hundred followers,” Nursey mutters before Connor finds himself being pulled into a headlock.

Laughing, Connor throws a gentle elbow into Nursey’s side before he leans down and twists free. “Yeah and you still can’t wrestle for shit, bro.”

“I wasn’t even trying,” Nursey sniffs, running his hands down over his shirt and slacks to smooth them out. “You’d know it if I was.”

Connor rolls his eyes just as the door jingles open and he quickly smooths his expression into what Dylan calls his ‘politely bored customer service face’. Connor’s given up trying to make his face do anything else because he just ends up looking more awkward and uncomfortable. He’d tried it out on Brinksy once, who now refuses to step foot in The Daily Grind whenever Connor’s working a shift.

“Holy fucking hottie,” Darnell murmurs, his shoulder brushing against Connor’s as he steps past him and heads back to the register. Connor looks up and freezes because Holy Fucking Hottie is an understatement. Working in a coffee shop means that Connor’s no stranger to hotties wandering in. Sometimes they even respond to Nursey’s terrible flirting, which Connor tries not to judge them for because honestly, Darnell has the worst pick-up lines Connor’s ever heard.

This guy though. This hottie, dressed in sweats and a raggedy black t-shirt, is exactly Connor’s type. He’s broad and tall with a sullen expression that Connor wants to tease into a smile because he’d bet the rest of his college tuition that this guy’s smile is worth the effort.

“Hey cutie,” Nursey says, leaning down on the counter on one elbow with practiced ease. “What can I do for you today?”

Connor bites back a groan and busies himself with coaxing the coffee machine back to life.

“Just an espresso, thanks.” He’s softly spoken and Connor thinks there’s a hint of an accent there, but this is Toronto and everyone seems to have an accent of some kind. Even Nursey, and he grew up in Hamilton. “To go.”

“Sure I can’t tempt you with something sweet too?” Nursey asks innocently, gesturing to the cakes and muffins next to him in their display case.

“Uh, no thanks?” Holy Fucking Hottie says and hands over his money.

“An iron will, I can appreciate that, man,” Nursey flirts shamelessly as he counts out the change and hands it back. “I’m the opposite. Show me something bad for me and I can’t say no.”

Connor turns just in time to see Darnell wink at the guy, who looks pretty amused by the outrageous flirting. And fuck, Connor was right about his smile.

“This your first time here then?” Darnell asks, reaching below the counter to pull out a loyalty card that he dangles in front of Holy Fucking Hottie. “Ten visits gets you a free coffee.”

“I guess it depends whether the coffee’s any good then,” Holy Fucking Hottie says, his gaze flickering over to where Connor is sliding the lid on his espresso. Connor absolutely isn’t blushing because that would be incredibly embarrassing, and his hands definitely don’t fumble with the cup for a second before he slides a sleeve on and places it on the counter just in front of him.

“You’ll want the loyalty card,” Connor tells him confidently, plucking it from Darnell’s fingers and ignoring his annoyed scowl to place it next to the coffee. “And sorry about him, he’s got no filter. Enjoy your coffee and have a nice day.”

Holy Fucking Hottie’s mouth curves into a grin and he picks up the card, sliding it into his back pocket before he takes the coffee. “Thanks, man. You too.”

He and Darnell watch the guy turn and leave, standing side by side while Connor tries not to stare at Holy Fucking Hottie’s ass.

“You’re such a dick, Davo,” Nursey mutters, giving Connor a shove that almost sends him off balance. “He was totally into me.”

“He was being polite to the obnoxious cashier who wouldn’t stop hitting on him,” Connor says dryly. “Sexual harassment in the workplace is an actual thing, you know.”

“Yeah and he can sexually harass me any time he wants,” Nursey leers. “I guess we’ll find out when he comes back and asks for my number.”

“In your dreams, Nursey. In your fucking dreams.”

*

Connor actually likes his job most of the time. The hours are flexible enough that he can fit in his studies, hit the gym five times a week and manage at least five hours of sleep a night. Most of the time he’s on shift with Nursey, which he suspects is because Darnell is a lot to handle and most of the other baristas can only handle him for an hour or so before they look like they want to cry. Connor thinks he’s pretty funny most of the time and they work well together.

Well, most of the time.

Today, Connor is running on two hours sleep after Dylan dragged him out to a party that he really didn’t want to go to last night. He’d woken up hungover and annoyed with himself for agreeing to go, and not even a two hour session at the gym had made him feel better.

And now Darnell is laughing at his hangover because Nursey is a terrible human being and Connor needs better friends.

“Your coffee will be ready as soon as my unprofessional colleague here with a hangover gets his ass in gear and makes it,” Nursey says, managing to sound unapologetic and delighted all at the same time.

“Fuck you,” Connor says, low enough that the customer can’t hear him. “I’m not unprofessional and I’m not being slow.”

“Sure, buddy.” Nursey pats him on the back and Connor fights the urge to shrug him off because he’s a professional, dammit. “Whatever you say.”

Connor tops off the macchiato and hands it to the customer with a smile. “Have a great day, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” she says, peering into her coffee like she’s inspecting it.

Connor keeps his smile in place and waits patiently until she looks satisfied and moves over to a table by the window. Then he spins around to glare at Nursey, who just looks unwholly amused by Connor’s everything right now. “Stop telling people that I’m hungover and I’m going to fuck up their order,” he snaps, grateful that there’s only an hour left of his shift and he can then go home and sleep for an hour before he has to get to the library to finish the paper that’s due first thing tomorrow. He’s got everything under control.

“Holy shit, he’s back,” Nursey says, suddenly standing straighter and wiping his hands on his apron.

“Who’s back?” Connor asks, his mood suddenly vastly improved while he watches Nursey fuss with his hair in the display cabinet’s reflection.

Except then he turns and it’s Holy Fucking Hottie.

Of course it fucking is. As far as he knows, Holy Fucking Hottie hasn’t been back to The Daily Grind since his first visit three weeks ago. And of all the days to turn up, it’s when Connor’s tired and hungover and looks, according to Nursey, like absolute shit. Plus, his hair is all fluffy from the gym showers because he couldn’t be bothered to do anything with it today.

He shuffles behind the coffee machine, trying to duck down far enough to hide except it’s a losing battle since he’s at least a foot taller than the stupid machine.

“Welcome back,” he hears Nursey say. “Same again or can I tempt you with something a little sweeter?”

“You remember my order?” Holy Fucking Hottie asks, sounding more bemused than surprised.

“Of course I do,” Nursey scoffs lightly while Connor busies himself with cleaning the coffee machine. There’s a tiny watermark on the steam wand that Connor focuses so hard on that he jumps when Nursey slams a takeout cup in front of him. “Hey bro, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Connor says gruffly. “I told you I’m fine.”

“Alright, well our customer here ….” He trails off and casts Holy Fucking Hottie a questioning look.

“Leon,” he supplies after a long pause.

“Leon,” Darnell repeats cheerfully, “Leon would like an espresso. If that’s not too much trouble.”

Connor blinks at him a few times and tries to communicate that he’s going to kill him later. Then he turns to Holy Fucki- no, Leon, and smiles politely. “Sure. Coming right up.”

It takes him less than 20 seconds to make, drop the lid and slide on the sleeve. “Here you go. Have a nice day, Leon.”

Leon takes the coffee. His gaze drops for a moment and Connor’s breath catches when Leon looks back up at him, his smile lighting up his face and making Connor wonder for a moment if he’s stepped into a goddamn rom-com. “You too, Connor.”

Connor has never hated his propensity to flush deeply more than he does right now. “Thanks,” he manages as the heat creeps up past his neck and he fingers his stupid name-badge.

Thankfully, Leon leaves and Connor can disappear into the back to splash water on his burning face before Nursey finds him and proceeds to spend the next hour of their shift ripping on his embarrassing lack of game.

*

Leon starts coming in more often, which has nothing to do with Connor’s newfound dedication to making sure that his hair is styled perfectly at all times at work. Sometimes Leon comes in when they’re rushed off their feet and he barely has enough time to flash him a harried smile before he’s turning away to make the next drink.

Sometimes though, Leon comes in when there’s a lull in the shop and Nursey distracts Leon with his terrible attempts at flirting. The first time he finds himself holding Leon’s takeaway coffee cup, Darnell is busy bragging to Leon about Kia and her 1000 points at UConn and Connor knows he’s got at least another minute before Darnell shuts up because literally no one can stop him once he’s started boasting about Kia.

He draws a lion on the sleeve, except his artistic skills are limited so mostly it looks like a cloud with a face and five legs. He’s just finishing the mane when Leon appears in front of him, expressionless as Connor’s come to expect from him.

“Uh, sorry,” Connor says, clearing his throat and turning the cup so that when he hands it over, the lion is facing away from Leon. “Um, have a nice day?”

Leon nods at him and heads towards the door and Connor thinks he might have gotten away with it. Except Leon must have seen him sketching because just as he reaches for the door, he turns and there’s a quizzical look on his face.

Connor panics. He fucking panics and his heart is racing and his hands feel clammy and he doesn’t have any other excuse for his choice to fucking _wave_.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Darnell asks in horror.

“I don’t know.” Connor lowers his hand and groans. Luckily, Leon’s gone when Connor next looks up but it’s too late. He needs to quit this job. Maybe move provinces. He’s heard good things about Italy; he likes pasta and painted ceilings with dancing cherubs.

Fuck.

*

“It was meant to be a lion,” Connor says in a rush.

Leon blinks at him tiredly. It’s pretty early on a Monday morning, so Connor can empathize. But he’s been agonizing about the stupid drawing all weekend.

“Uh, that thing I drew on your cup last time you came in,” Connor clarifies, except Leon just continues to stare at him. “Like, um, leo the lion. Astrology or whatever. And your name,” Connor trails off miserably.

Leon takes his coffee from Connor and looks down to examine the cup. It’s doodle-free. “I liked it,” is all he says, sounding disappointed as he checks the unmarked cup underneath the sleeve. “Well, have a good day, Connor.”

“You too,” Connor says dazedly and starts plotting what else his limited artistic skills could produce for Leon’s next visit.

*

For Leon’s free tenth cup of coffee, Connor sketches a sun wearing sunglasses on the lid since it’s the first nice day of weather they’ve had in months. It’s also the first time Connor’s seen Leon’s legs since apparently he’s the kind of guy to wear shorts as soon as the temperature rises above freezing.

“You run?” Connor asks because Leon looks like he’s just come from a long, hard workout. When Connor comes out of the gym, he looks ridiculous, all pink-cheeked and sweaty and not in a good way. Of course Leon looks like he just stepped out of a Nike commercial and into Connor’s coffee shop.

“Just a couple of Ks,” Leon says, his thumb tracing over Connor’s sun sketch idly. “You?”

“I hate running,” Connor admits. “I make myself hit the treadmill at the gym but mostly I’m just trying to stay upright.”

Leon’s face relaxes into a grin. “Treadmills are shit, man. You should get out there and hit the parks. The scenery is much better, I promise.”

“You’re overestimating my ability to run and navigate around people,” Connor says dryly. “Honestly, me and sports in general don’t mix. I’m much safer at the gym.”

“All sports?” Leon asks in surprise. Connor doesn’t miss the way Leon’s gaze flickers down his body and he tries not to flush. “You look pretty built though.”

Connor is definitely flushing now. “I can skate,” he says with a shrug. It doesn’t mean much though since there’s a rink on every corner and everyone Connor knows can skate. “You ever go?”

“Yeah,” Leon says before he takes a sip of his drink. “My dad played hockey in Germany. My sister and I kind of grew up on the ice.”

“Yeah? Have you been to see the Leafs play?” Connor adores the Leafs. They’re pretty consistent at letting him down every year but this year they’ve got an awesome rookie influx and Connor’s quietly hoping that they actually make the playoffs this season.

“Not yet,” Leon says. “Not in person, at least. Do you go to many games?”

Connor laughs just as Darnell reappears from his break which means it’s his turn next. “Nah, I’m a poor college student. All my money goes on rent, books and ramen.”

“Yeah, sucks to be Davo here,” Darnell interrupts, slinging his arm around Connor’s shoulders and blatantly ignoring the way Connor tenses up beneath him. “No fun allowed for Connor. I keep telling him to let his hair down but he insists on being boring.”

“I have fun,” Connor grumbles, too used to Nursey’s teasing to get really worked up about it. He glances at Leon, who seems vaguely amused by them.

“I should be going,” Leon says and taps the lid of his coffee. “Thanks for the drink, Connor.”

“I love to watch him leave,” Darnell murmurs as Leon walks out of the café. “That is one fine looking man, Davo.”

“Out of your league, Nursey,” Connor says as he casually steps away and unties his apron. “So far out of your league.”

“Yours too, Davo,” Nursey yells after him. Connor just shakes his head and heads for the break room out back. He doesn’t need Nursey to remind him that Leon’s out of his league. They’re not even playing the same game. But Leon’s cute and nice and Connor’s allowed to harbor his little crush, so long as he remains professional. Which means he should probably stop doodling on Leon’s coffee cups.

Connor drops down into a chair and bangs his head down on the table and groans.

*

Over the next week, Connor draws a skate, a maple leaf and a hockey stick on Leon’s coffee cups and learns that Leon’s also a student at U of T, studying languages. The week after, he draws a hockey jersey and writes Leon across the back and gives him the number 29 because that’s what date it is. Then he gives up on drawing anything because he’s exhausted his limited artistic skills and starts naming Leon’s cups after his favorite players.

“Lucic?” Leon asks one day, looking particularly pained.

“My dad’s a Bruins fan,” Connor shrugs. “Lucic is a good player.”

Leon looks at him in that quiet, considering way that Connor’s slowly getting used to. “Alright,” he says eventually.

Connor beams at him and adds extra chocolate sprinkles to his cappuccino.

*

“You know you’re not allowed back here, right?”

Dylan doesn’t even bother acknowledging him from his perch on the counter. He’s reading something on his phone, scrolling with one hand while the other is wrapped around a hot chocolate because Dylan is weird about coffee.

“I’m gonna get fired if Todd comes in and finds you back here,” Connor says, doodling on a newspaper that one of their customers left behind. The café is almost empty and he’s only had to make one coffee in the past fifteen minutes.

“You say that every time,” Dylan tells him, sounding bored. “Mitch is coming over tonight, by the way. He wants to watch the game.”

“You mean steal all our food while he takes over the couch and pretends he doesn’t have a huge boner for Matthews,” Connor mutters. He likes Mitch, he really does. Mitch is a lot of fun. But he’s also oblivious as fuck about Dylan’s major crush on him and Connor is kind of tired of the endless parade of girls and boys in their apartment as Dylan tries to fuck his way out of his dumb crush.

“He says he’s bringing pizza.” Dylan swings himself down from the counter and slings his arm around Connor’s shoulders. “C’mon Davo. I’ll make sure he adds extra pepperoni.”

Connor grumbles a little but he leans into Dylan and they both know he’ll give in, as usual.

“Yo Stromer,” Darnell says, yawning as he steps behind the cash register and ties his apron around his waist. “What brings your pretty face around here then?”

“This one won’t shut up about the hottie at work, so I thought I’d come by and check him out for myself,” Dylan says, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

“Well you can’t mean me because you’ve already checked out my handsome face,” Darnell says with an irrepressible grin. He’s looking at Connor though and Connor would kinda like to sink through the floor right now. “So you’ve been crying to Stromer about how hot Leon is, huh? And all this time you’ve been telling me not to flirt with him because it’s ‘unprofessional’. The truth’s coming out now though, Davo. I see how it is.”

“I hate you both,” Connor groans, except he ruins it by burying his face in Dylan’s neck while Dylan pets Connor’s hair soothingly.

“You two are so cute,” Nursey says, sounding disgusted. “Hey, heads up, your boy just came in.”

Connor lifts his head from Dylan’s shoulder and catches Leon’s gaze, his face schooled into its usual blankness.

“Holy shit, he is cute,” Dylan murmurs, low enough for only Connor’s ears. “Slight serial killer vibe though, bro.”

“Shut up,” Connor mutters, aiming an elbow to Dylan’s ribs and snorting when Dylan doubles over and groans loudly.

“C’mon boys, you’re ruining the professional ambiance of the café,” Nursey says with a grin. He’s leaning against the counter, waving a takeaway cup in his hands with Leon’s order scribbled on it. “Sorry about these two animals, Leon. They’re absolute idiots together.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Dylan counters, throwing a napkin at Nursey that falls short, drifting slowly to the floor between them. Dylan shrugs and turns to Leon with his most disarming smile while Connor busies himself making Leon’s coffee, trying to pretend that he’s not intensely invested in whether Leon likes his best friend or not. “Hi, I’m Dylan, Connor’s life partner and roommate.”

Connor looks up in time to watch Leon introduce himself and offer a polite smile.

“Connor says you’re a hockey fan,” Dylan says blithely. “Leafs or Sens?”

“Bruins,” Leon deadpans.

The look of horror on Dylan’s face is too much for Connor and he cackles as he picks up the steamed milk and starts pouring it carefully into Leon’s cup.

“Oh fuck you,” Dylan says, aiming it at both Connor and Leon. “The Bruins suck, dude. I’ve been telling Connor’s dad that for years.”

“Relax, he’s a casual Leafs fan,” Connor says, flashing Leon a small smile. “Dylan’s obsessed with the Leafs. He takes it personally when he meets fans of other teams.”

“That’s because other teams suck,” Dylan interjects, hooking his chin over Connor’s shoulder and looking down at the masterpiece that Connor’s created for Leon. “Nice maple leaf,” he says quietly.

“Just trying something new,” Connor says uncomfortably. He reaches over for a lid, shrugging Dylan off before he leans over to give the cup to Leon. “Here you go. Have a good day, Leon.”

“Thanks, Connor,” Leon says. “Nice to meet you, Dylan.”

“You too,” Dylan calls out, grinning when Leon lifts a hand in acknowledgement before he steps out of the café. “Jesus, Connor. He’s like, painfully hot. Totally out of your league.”

“Thank you,” Darnell says, throwing his hands up. “I’ve been saying that for weeks.”

“Oh he’s totally out of your league too,” Dylan adds seriously, ignoring Darnell’s splutter of outrage. “Seriously though, Davo. You know I love you, but he’s probably got a hot girlfriend at home. Or boyfriend.”

“I know,” Connor says grumpily. He finishes cleaning up his station and turns towards Dylan, who’s looking at him with pity. “Stop it. I fucking know, alright? It’s just a harmless crush. I’ll get over it.”

Dylan bites his bottom lip, looking conflicted but he keeps quiet, to Connor’s relief.

*

Connor flops down on the sofa, kicking Mitch’s legs out of the way because he’s had a bad day – a bad week, really – and he’s pretty sure Mitch hasn’t left their apartment in the past 48 hours.

“What’s up with him?” he hears Mitch ask Dylan.

“He’s missing Holy Fucking Hottie,” Dylan answers. A cold bottle finds its way into Connor’s hand and he gives Dylan a grateful smile. “Leon hasn’t been in all week.”

“Aww, is Davo missing his big German stud muffin?” Mitch coos, shoving his feet into Connor’s side.

“Fuck off,” is Connor’s half-hearted response. He’s absolutely not going to tell them that he’s spent all week at work looking up whenever the door jangled, only to feel a horrible swooping in his belly when it’s not Leon strolling in with his stupid expressionless face. He’s also not going to mention that he’s spent a good chunk of his working hours practising dumb latte art to impress Leon with.

God, he’s so _stupid_.

Dylan wriggles his way in between the two of them, shoving Mitch’s legs away and ignoring his complaints until his arm casually slides over Mitch’s shoulders and he settles back into Dylan, still grumbling quietly to himself.

Well, he’s not as stupid as everyone else in the room at least.

“Mitch wants to go to a party tonight,” Dylan says, nudging Connor with his free arm. “Wanna come?”

What Connor wants is to stretch out on the couch, vegging out on Cheetos and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s until he passes out in a food coma. But he knows that if he says that to Dylan, he’ll insist on staying in and keeping Connor company, and probably spend the entire evening texting Mitch and bitching about who Mitch is hooking up with.

So he says okay and disappears into his room to get changed.

“Wear that blue shirt that makes your eyes look amazing!” Dylan yells encouragingly after him.

“And those black jeans that make your ass look amazing,” Mitch yells; less encouraging and more leering.

Connor doesn’t usually take sartorial advice from Mitch or Dylan, both of whom have made extremely questionable fashion choices; Mitch with his dedication to looking like a dudebro and Dylan with his inexplicable love for preppy polo neck shirts or too many layers. He’s just feeling defenseless enough to listen to them and quickly gets dressed, teases his hair into some semblance of a style and drags out his cleanest and whitest sneakers from the back of his closet.

He walks back out to obnoxious wolf whistles that drag a reluctant smile to his face and after a few more quickly downed beers, Connor follows them out into the warm Toronto night, and barely thinks about Leon at all.

*

Mitch disappears almost as soon as they hit the party, getting lost in a crowd of identical-looking dudebros holding a beer in each hand and still trying to high five Mitch as he fades into their midst. Connor isn’t surprised but if Dylan wants to act like it doesn’t bother him, then Connor will be a good bro and ignore it too.

But he does push beer after beer into Dylan’s hands until he’s a giggly mess, hanging off Connor as they chat to some guys Connor knows from his class. He’s relaxed and actually having fun, so he supposes he owes Mitch a thanks or something.

Dylan disappears on him for a bit and Connor gives him enough time to find the bathroom and hurl if he needs to before Connor makes his way to find him through the throng of drunk dancers and hook-ups that Connor suspects will lead to nothing but regret in the morning.

What he finds is Dylan propped up against the wall near the front door, talking to someone who looks a lot like Leon, from behind.

Connor’s torn between hurrying to interrupt them and turning away and pretending the tableau in front of him never happened. But Connor’s never run away from anything in his life, so he walks slowly towards them, futilely hoping that their conversation will end before he joins them.

No such luck.

“- he doesn’t make shitty coffee art for everyone, are you kidding?” he hears Dylan saying in a surprisingly steady voice considering the sheer amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. Dylan chooses that moment to look up and his face lights up when he sees Connor just a few feet away. “Davo! Look who I found! It’s Holy Fucking Hottie!”

Connor freezes, eyes wide as Leon turns around and stares at him. “It was Darnell’s nickname for you before we found out your real name,” Connor says weakly before he turns towards Dylan, who looks utterly unrepentant. “And I’m gonna kill you. Later. When you’ve sobered up.”

“Sure thing, bud,” Dylan says soothingly as he slides out from between them. “I’m gonna go find Mitch. Catch you later, boys.”

Connor clears his throat and offers Leon an apologetic smile. “Uh, sorry about whatever he just said. He’s wasted.”

“No, it was good,” Leon says, his eyes focused entirely on Connor. “He explained some things that I might have misunderstood.”

“Oh,” Connor says dully. “Yeah. About that. I’m really sorry? It was totally unprofessional of me and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You can totally have a free coffee next time you come in, on me. Or shit, maybe you don’t want to come back to the café. That’s okay too, you know? Whatever you want.”

“Connor,” Leon says, shaking his head before he starts smiling. And okay, Connor is a terrible person but Leon’s smile is literally the best thing he’s ever seen in his life and he can’t help but stare. “You’re the politest guy I’ve ever met. You’re really nice to everyone, you know?”

“I’d be a really terrible employee if I was mean to all the customers,” Connor says, shifting a little until he can lean back against the wall. Leon’s still smiling at him and Connor’s feeling a little light-headed. It’s probably the beer but it might also be because Leon’s kind of leaning into his space right now and he smells so fucking good.

“Exactly,” Leon says, his voice low and almost impossible to hear over the music and noise surrounding them. “I thought I was just one of your customers. Someone to be polite to.”

“Oh,” Connor says dumbly. “Uh, no. Not just a customer.”

Leon’s smile slips into something more intimate; somehow Connor thinks that most people don’t get to see this smile from Leon. “I have another confession.”

“Yeah?” Connor says a little breathlessly.

“I thought you and Dylan were together,” Leon murmurs.

Connor blinks twice before he bursts out laughing. He can’t help it or control it, especially when he sees Leon’s answering grin. “No,” he says, when he catches his breath. “No, we’ve never. He’s my best friend. And he’s kind of hung up on Mitch.”

Leon moves a little closer and Connor shifts until he can feel Leon’s thigh sliding between his. “Yeah?” Leon says and Connor has to tip his head back just a little to look at him. “So you don’t put little maple leafs in everyone’s coffees?”

“No,” Connor admits. “Just yours.”

“Huh,” Leon says before he leans in and presses his lips against Connor’s.

Holy fucking shit, he’s kissing Holy Fucking Hottie. Connor winds his arms around Leon’s neck and tugs him closer until their bodies are pressed together. He can feel Leon’s hands on his hips, his thumbs brushing warm skin under Connor’s shirt and he feels like he’s on fire.

“So hot,” Leon mumbles against his lips. “Your hands are incredible. I can’t stop thinking about them.”

“If we don’t get out of here in two minutes, this is going to get embarrassing,” Connor says, completely serious.

“There’s probably a spare room somewhere in this place,” Leon says, and his voice sounds a little unsteady in a way that makes Connor want to drop to his knees right then and there. But he has some semblance of self-preservation and grabs Leon’s hand, tugging him out through the door.

“My place is three blocks away. Is yours closer?”

Leon huffs out a laugh. “About eight blocks.”

“Mine then,” Connor says firmly and starts tugging Leon down the sidewalk towards his apartment. “Four minutes, tops.”

Leon’s still laughing at him when he struggles to get his key into the lock, pressed up against his back and nuzzling his beautiful face into Connor’s neck. “You’re not making this any easier,” Connor says, tipping his head back a little to give Leon better access. Strong hands slide around his waist and he groans when he’s pulled back flush against Leon’s hard, broad body.

“Open the door, Connor,” Leon says, his fingers sliding against Connor’s fly.

“Shit, fuck, hang on,” Connor pants, arching back helplessly as he fumbles with the key and fuck, finally. Finally. The door swings open and they fall through it, Connor turning in Leon’s arms to kiss him because he needs to always be kissing Leon.

Someone clears their throat and Connor jerks back in surprise because it wasn’t Leon and it definitely wasn’t him. He glances over his shoulder and sees Dylan and Mitch behind him, obviously interrupted mid-well, something. Dylan’s shirtless and Mitch’s hair is a fucking mess and they’re both grinning stupidly.

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” Connor says desperately.

“Sure thing Davo,” Mitch says cheerfully. “See you in the morning. Let’s do breakfast.”

Dylan shoves his hand over Mitch’s mouth and drags him off to his room. Connor closes his eyes and tries to block out the giggles he can hear through the closed door.

“Sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against Leon’s.

“Your room, Connor,” Leon murmurs, and rocks his hips slightly. Connor’s head snaps up and he flushes. Leon’s still hard and he’s staring at Connor’s mouth like he’s desperate to have it.

“Yeah,” Connor says. “Okay, yeah.”

He drops to his knees as soon as the bedroom door closes behind them, his mouth open and eager. It’s the wettest, sloppiest blowjob he’s ever given someone, urged on by Leon’s surprisingly vocal moans of encouragement and his fingers buried in Connor’s hair, tugging hard when he came down Connor’s throat.

He doesn’t mind when Leon strips him and returns the favor before collapsing next to him on the bed, or when Leon finally rouses enough to manhandle him into an aggressive spooning cuddle, and Connor falls asleep with Leon curled around him, one hand possessively splayed against his belly.

*

They have breakfast at The Daily Grind with Mitch and Dylan. Mitch keeps his arm around Dylan’s shoulder the entire time, even though Dylan’s at least half a foot taller and twice as broad as him. Dylan doesn’t seem to mind at all.

Connor’s feeling pretty great, despite his mild hangover. He has Leon’s number in his phone and they’ve got plans to meet up tomorrow after his shift at work.

He hooks his foot around Leon’s ankle under the table and watches Leon smile into his coffee.


End file.
